


The Adventures of Dadneto and Professor Dad

by dystopiceyre



Series: Domestic!Cherik [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Attempt at Humor, Canon Jewish Character, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Domestic Fluff, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Sweetheart, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, dadneto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:13:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dystopiceyre/pseuds/dystopiceyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A set of fics starring the Lehnsherr/Xavier/Maximoff/Dane family from toddlers to teenagers and everywhere in between.<br/>Erik and Charles thought that if they could handle anti-mutant discrimination and their own tumultuous love life then they could handle anything life threw at them, but fatherhood is pushing that theory to the limit.<br/>**Currently on hiatus for senior year things**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Iron and Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Potential triggers for this chapter include discussions about menstruation, child/spousal death, and heavy consumption of alcohol.  
> Update: I added a few lines to the ending of this chapter because I felt it was a little choppy  
> Timeline: This chapter takes place 5 years AC (After Charles)

"Dads?” Wanda asks, knocking on their bedroom door. "Are you decent? I need to come in."

“Mmm, come in,” Charles replies groggily. He glances over at the clock on the nightstand. The numbers read 3:04 AM. Heaving a heavy sigh, he nudges his husband in the ribs with his elbow. "Erik, darling, wake up. Wanda’s here."

Erik sits up in bed, rubbing his eyes. At the age of just-turned-twelve, Wanda hardly ever comes to them in the middle of the night any more. “Wanda? Is something wrong, _Liebchen_?”

“Yes, Papa I don’t mean to bother you but, um.” Wanda shifts her weight nervously, gripping the footboard of the bed.

“What is it, my child?” he asks, sleepiness making his German accent thicker.

“I’m in pain,” she replies simply.

“Do you still have your headache from earlier?” Charles asks. “You know where we keep the painkillers.”

“I already took some for that a couple hours ago, but it hurts here now too,” gesturing to her lower abdomen.

Charles and Erik exchange glances, all traces of sleep replaced with worry.

“Does it hurt on your right side? Is the pain sharp? Do you have any other symptoms?” Charles asks.

“Yes, but it hurts everywhere else too. I don’t know if I’d call the pain sharp, but it’s killing me. And I feel a little dizzy and lightheaded. Also, I had a hard time breathing in PE class today"

Erik pulls her into his lap, pressing a hand against her forehead. “She doesn’t feel warm, Charles, but look how pale she is. Let’s take her to the ER, I don’t want to risk anything.”

“That’s not necessary, Papa. I’ll be fine. Just take me to the doctor in the morning.”

“ _Mäuschen_ , if you are in serious pain we need to get you medical attention _now_ in case it’s serious _.”_

“I don’t need a doctor right now, Papa, I know what’s wrong.”

“If you do indeed have appendicitis, we need to act before your appendix bursts.”

“It’s not appendicitis, Papa, I st-“ Wanda doesn’t finish her sentence because she doubles over in pain.

Erik leaps out of bed, scoops his daughter up in his arms. “Wanda?”

“I’m fine, papa, really. It’s just-“

“Sh, be still now. We’re going to take you to the doctor now.” Erik uses his powers to transport his phone and the keys to the minivan into his hand.

“Take her to the car, I’ll wake Pietro and tell him he’s in charge of Lorna in case we’re not back by morning.” Charles shouts, already half way out the bedroom door.

“Don’t worry, _Mäuschen_ , Daddy and I will make sure you’re alright.” Wanda nods, eyes wide.

Meanwhile in Pietro’s room, Charles is shaking him awake. The boy resists his father’s efforts, pulling his blanket over his head.

“Pietro, it’s imperative you wake up _now_.”

“Five more minutes, daddy.”

Charles sends an urgent telepathic wave towards Pietro’s consciousness to get him up. He feels a twinge of regret at invading his son’s privacy, but excuses it due to the state of emergency.

“Your papa and I are taking your sister to the ER right now. We’re worried that she might be very sick with a condition called appendicitis. YOU are in charge of the house and your baby sister while we’re gone. I’ll leave my cell phone with you in case you need us, but we need to leave now. Do you understand?”

Pietro nods his head, eyes wide with concern. “Yes dad, just make sure that Wanda gets better, ok?”

Charles presses a quick kiss to his sons head. “For as much as you tease you sister, you really do love her underneath it all.”

“Nah, I just can’t beat her up if she’s in the hospital,” Pietro scoffs.

“Be good!” Charles yells from the stairs. When he slams shut the front door, he can hear Erik using his powers to click the lock shut behind him. He hops in the driver’s seat of the families’ minivan, already fired up with Erik and Wanda in the back.

Wanda’s head is laying in her father’s lap, his fingers running through her dark curls in a comforting manner. When she whimpers and clutches at her middle in pain, Erik starts to whisper a litany of endearments in German. “ _Ich liebe dich._ _Ohne dich kann ich nicht leben_.”

“Papa,” Wanda starts. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Shh, _Mein Schätzchen_ , it can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“But Papa, it’s important!”

“Nothing is more important than making sure you’re ok. Charles, can you drive any faster?”

Charles glances down at the cars speedometer. “I don’t think it would be wise to push this clunker over 85mph.”

“If it can handle 85, then it can handle 90.”

Charles doubts it, but speeds up accordingly when he glances what looks suspiciously like a tear leaking out of Erik’s eye.

“Dad, could we go to Uncle Hank’s instead of the hospital? The doctors there scare me.”

“That’s actually a good idea, Wanda. It’s a few minutes closer.” Charles makes a sharp left turn, redirecting his course to Hank and Raven’s apartment. He nearly makes the car run into a streetlight because his hands are shaking so bad.

“Erik, could you please stop projecting your anxiety, we need at least one of us clear minded.”

“I’ll think a bit straighter when our daughter isn’t writhing in pain.”

“Papa, calm down please so Daddy doesn’t crash and kill us all.” Wanda commands from his lap. “And Daddy, slow the car down to 70 or I swear I will die _this instant_ out of spite.”

“How about 75?”

“Deal.”

When the van finally reaches the street of Hank and Raven’s apartment, Charles swerves and parks the car haphazardly in a spot that is likely not legal. With a few flicks of his fingers, Erik has the doors to the apartment’s front doors and then the elevators open. The cables screech loudly as he moves the elevator car at lightning speed up the shaft.

“We’re here now, Wanda,” Charles says, knocking on the door as hard as he can. “Your uncle will fix you right up, baby.” Wanda nods weakly from her father’s arms.

Hank opens the door with Raven standing behind him wrapped in a bathrobe. “Charles? What are you doing here?” Erik has already pushed his way into the apartment. He gestures to his daughter in his arms. “Abdominal pain, dizziness, shortness of breath, we think it might be appendicitis. She doesn’t have a fever, but we wanted to be sure”

“I’ll grab my medical bag,” Hank calls as he runs into the bedroom. “Raven, set her up on the kitchen counter.”

Erik sets his daughter gingerly on the Formica surface, wrapping her in a blanket handed to him by Raven.

“I’ll take it from here,” she says, gently pushing the sweaty hair away from Wanda’s face.

“Hi, Aunt Raven,” Wanda says weakly.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s always nice to see you and your dads, but next time make sure they put on their pants before coming, ok?”

Wanda lets out a half giggle at that.

By now, Hank has returned with his medical supplies. “I’m going to have to palpate your abdomen to see if the area around the appendix rebounds, is that ok with you?”

Wanda glances in confusion at her aunt. “Translation: he wants to know if he can poke your tummy.” Wanda nods, lifting up the corner of her shirt. Hank puts pressure on the flesh there and quickly releases it. “Did that make your pain worse?”

“No,”

“Is the pain only mostly on your right side?”

Wanda shakes her head no again, and causing Hank to frown in confusion. “Well, I don’t think its appendicitis,” he says, addressing the fathers. “The pain isn’t isolated enough. I’ll ask her some questions and run a quick blood test to see what’s up.”

With quick, efficient movements Hank poked one of Wanda’s fingers with a needle, placed her blood on a test strip, and handed it off to Raven to analyze. Grabbing a pen and notepad, he settled down to discover what was behind his nieces’ ailment.

“I’m going to go ahead and assume you are not currently sexually active?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Erik retorted. “She just turned _twelve_ for God’s sake! What kind of parents do you think we are?”

“Erik, Hank’s just doing his job, calm down please.”

“How have your stools been lately?”

“You mean my poop?”

“Mhm,”

“Kind of diarrhea-ish, actually.”

“Interesting. And when was your last menstrual period?”

“Ri-,” Wanda began.

“Wanda hasn’t started her period yet,” Erik said matter of factly.

“Papa, that’s what I was trying to tell you earlier. I started my period.”

“What?!” Charles and Erik say simultaneously.

“Um, I think I’ll step out now and help Raven with those test results now.” Hank says, awkwardly exiting the room as quickly as possible.

“Wanda, when did this happen? And why on Earth would you not tell your father and I?” Erik demanded.

“Um, this is my third one, so the week before my birthday I guess? I didn’t want to tell you because I was scared, and thought you’d be all grossed out because you’re all manly and gay and stuff, so I used my allowance money to buy pads but I really _really_ wished Mama was still here to help, but I didn’t want you and Daddy to think I didn’t love you, and I still want to be your little girl, and after that first time I didn’t want you to be mad that I didn’t tell you at the start and… and… I don’t know, Papa, can you forgive me?” Wanda burst into tears and buried her face in her hands.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’ll be alright love. Just breathe.” Charles soothes, patting her on the back as Erik pulled her into a tight hug. He was half-laughing, half-crying into his daughter’s hair.

“Why are you laughing at me, papa?” Wanda asked, hurt and confusion on her face.

“I’m not laughing _at_ you, I’m just happy that you’re not seriously hurt.”

“B-but you’re not angry at me?”

“ _Nein, Mäuschen_ ,” he replies, gently wiping away her tears with the pad of his thumb. “ _Ich liebe dich mit ganzem Herzen._ “

“I love you too, papa. _Bitte verzeih mir,_ ”

“There is nothing to forgive, as long as you can promise me that if you _ever_ need help again, that you can trust us enough to just ask?”

“Yes, papa, daddy. Of course!”

From the doorway, Raven clears her throat. “Is it safe to come back in?”

Charles gestures for his sister and brother-in-law to rejoin their group. “We can finish up this conversation on the ride home.”

“Your blood test results came back showing very low iron levels, which would help explain some of your other symptoms,” Hank explains. “Anemia is not uncommon in girls who reach menarche early. Raven put some iron supplements into your-“

“Big _bloody_ bag of fun!” she exclaims, holding up a bright red knapsack. “Completely stocked with all your going-through-menstrual-hell needs. Painkillers, lots of chocolate, a heat pad for cramps, a stress ball, and tampons and pads. This thing saved my life when I was younger.”

“Thanks, Aunt Raven,” Wanda says excitedly. “Papa, may I eat one of the chocolates please?”

“Yes, but only one. It’s far too late, or early I guess, for sweets.”

Charles checks the clock on the wall. It reads 4:08am. “We’d better get going so little miss can catch up on some sleep. Thank you so much for everything, Hank, Raven.”

“Anytime, Charles,” Hank replies, shaking his hand.

“Steal one of your dads’ phones and call me if your cramps get really bad, ok kiddo? And we’ll have to see if you and I can spend a day together, just us big girls. You need some good womanly influences in your life. If you’re good this week, I’ll even help you shop for your first real bra!”

“Really?” Wanda asks, stifling a yawn.

“ _Gott in Himmel,_ Raven. Let’s not encourage her to grow up too fast. I don’t know how much Charles and I can handle at once.” Erik admonishes, throwing his exhausted daughter over his shoulder.

Final goodbyes were exchanged, and the family headed back to their car to return home. Charles drives home, this time following the speed limit. Erik still sits in the middle with Wanda lying half asleep in his lap. When they reach the house, he carries their daughter up to her room and tenderly tucks her in. Charles checks on their other two children. He smiles at the sight of Pietro in Lorna’s bed with her, his lanky twelve year old body protectively curled around her chubby eight year old form.

“It’s been a long night, but I don’t think I can go back to bed,” he tells Erik. “I could use a large glass of wine. Or four.”

“Best idea I’ve heard all night.” He grabs a bottle and some glasses from the top shelf, pouring each of them a somewhat obscene amount.

“How did we not see this? We’re very conscious, involved parents and I’m a telepath for fucks sake!” Charles rants, half to his husband and half to his wine glass.

“Who knows,” Erik sighs. “You’ve said yourself she’s a far more guarded person than the rest of us. Doesn’t project her emotions as much, or some such thing.”

“Speaking of emotions, I was getting some pretty intense ones from you in the car. I mean, I know we thought Wanda’s appendix was going to explode at any moment but it felt like more than that. _Ohne dich kann ich nicht leben-_ that means I can’t live without you, right?”

“Yes. Tonight mirrored the night the twins lost their mother far too closely for my liking.” Charles gathers up both of Erik’s hands in his, giving them a good squeeze to show his support.

“In the span of a few hours, I went from having a whole, loving family to being a man who just lost his wife and unborn child. When I saw Wanda’s eyes widen in pain, it took me back to seeing Magda’s eyes do the same thing. She thought it was simple abdominal pain, and wouldn’t let me take her to see a doctor at first, but by the time we had reached the hospital she had already lost so much blood that no one could save her or the baby. My Magda and Anya, ripped from the world far too soon. Wanda is already so much like her mother, I couldn’t lose her in the same way too.”

“You’d never told me her name before,” Charles whispers, pressing his forehead to Erik’s. “The baby’s, I mean. Anya Maximoff.”

“I guess I never did. It was a piece of my soul I wasn’t quite ready to share.” Erik pulls away, clearing his throat. “I propose a toast, in honor of their memory.”

“That sounds absolutely lovely.”

“To Magda, mother to the three best children in the world.”

“Besides Lorna, of course,” Charles adds.

“Besides my Lorna,” Erik echoes. “And to Anya, though the twins never got the chance to meet you, I know they would love you as much as I.”

The two clink their glasses and sit and drink in silence, trying to drown out the ghosts of the past.

“Does this mean that she’ll start to be interested in boys soon? Or girls, or whatever genders might be the case.” Charles asks.

“Why would you say that?” Erik asks, bristling up at the mention of his daughter dating. “Has she said anything about this?”

“No, but the Summers boys down the streets are quite good-looking and seem to be pretty polite.”

“It will be a cold day in hell before any daughter of mine dates a Summers boy, even if they are mutants. I’d rather have her date a fucking robot.”

“A robot? Erik, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am not. A robot or a nice Jewish mutant, but definitely no Summers. Hand me another bottle, I need to drown out the thought of her dating anyone ever.”

“There is at least one good thing about tonight,” Charles says after he is thoroughly hammered.

“Mm, and what would that be?” Erik asks between hiccups.

“Now that Wanda has reached puberty, it’s likely that her mutation will present itself.”

“That indeed is something worth celebrating. Another glass, my dear Charles?”

“Why not? It’s not every day you find out your pubescent daughter has been hiding her periods from you because she’s afraid you’ll be grossed out because you’re all ‘manly and gay and stuff’.”

“Pre-teen logic,” Erik scoffs, grabbing another bottle of wine off the shelf. “Does she not realize I had to deal with her and Lorna’s mother monthly visits too?”

“And even if I _am_ very gay, I dealt with the same thing with Raven growing up and Moira when we were roommates?”

“I don’t blame the poor girl though, I can be _very_ intimidating,” says Erik, flashing one of signature toothy grins.

“The only thing you are is very sexy,” Charles counters, batting playfully at his arm, but missing. “A very sexy shark toothed man.”

“And you are soooooo very drunk.”

“True, but at least I’m not the one whose mutation failed my child’s blood.”

Erik’s brow crumples in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You’re a fucking metallo… metala…. You know what I mean-that big, fancy word for magic metal man-whose daughter is iron deficient. Do you see the irony in that?”

Erik let out a laugh which quickly turned into drunken giggles. “You’re fucking right! I get it Charles, IRON-y!”

Charles presses a sloppy kiss to Erik’s forehead. “I have a feeling that we’ve had far too much wine for one night, er, morning. Let’s go to bed, dear.”

Erik nods, dragging himself up the stairs. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing a _lot_ of alcohol to get through the next couple years. _Three_ mutant teenagers.”

“Yes, soooo much alcohol,” Charles says, face planting onto the bed. “A shit load of alcohol. A fuck ton of alcohol. But we’ll have lots of love and support, which is all you really need in the end, right?”

Erik laughs, wrapping his body around his husbands. “Where would I be without you, Charles?”

“Probably rotting in prison or something,” Charles replies into his chest.


	2. We've All Got Our Junk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Professor Dad discovers that telepathy is sometimes a curse, not a gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: This chapter takes place 8 years AC (After Charles), which makes Pietro 15 years old  
> Don't even ask where this chapter came from, the idea came to me at 4a.m.  
> Potential triggers for this chapter include: To be completely honest this chapter is complete crack. Charles has an experience with "accidental telepathic voyeurism" (a phrase I thought I'd never use under any circumstance), which means that he accidentally brushes against Pietro's mind while he's masturbating. There is some fairly graphic description of the porn, but it's meant to be humorous, both because it's poor gay Charles' first time seeing "straight" and "lesbian" sex and because the video is a stereotypical poorly directed by a misogynistic straight male who has no idea how girl on girl sex works, nor how women like to have sex with men. My sincerest apologies if it doesn't come off in the way I intended. The men in the video do use a lot of misogynistic slurs, and the video kind of fetishizes mutants as well so if that bothers you at all PLEASE don't read this chapter. I promise the next one will be a lot more family friendly.

          “I’m home!” yelled Pietro as he ran through the front door, skidding to a stop mere centimeters before smacking face first into his father’s chest. “Didn’t want to wait for the bus and Wanda’s staying late for some project, so I just ran it.”

“How was school today, _Mein Schneckchen_?” Erik asks.

“Pretty good, I totally _owned_ the opposing dodgeball team in PE today.”

“And academics-wise?” Erik asks, laughing and ruffling his son’s hair.

“Ugh, it sucked ass, as per usual. I have a stupid fucking essay on the Revolutionary War that’s due tomorrow so I’ll have to borrow your laptop later.”

“Chill with the language,” Erik admonishes.

“Coming from you? Ha.”

“Good point,” Erik admits. “I’m about to leave, I have to take Lorna to a dentist. Dad and I will probably be home at about the same time. Don’t get in too much trouble while we’re gone.”

“Me? Trouble? Nah, never.” Pietro deadpans.

“You’re welcome to mess around on the internet for a bit, but make sure you do actually start on your essay.” Erik calls over his shoulder as he exits the house.

“Will do, Daddy-O!” Pietro replies.

 _Dear God, I hope he never calls me that again,_ Erik thinks as he walks to the car.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When Charles walks in the door, he senses the unmistakable feeling of teenage horniness. As a college professor and father to two 15 year olds, it is an emotion that his telepathy often picks up, so he usually chooses to ignore it. Today, Pietro’s horniness seems more potent than usual. Coupled with the fact that Pietro was yet to master his thought shield, Charles decides to close his mind off from all thought impulses.

“Teenagers,” he scoffs. “You couldn’t pay me to go through puberty again.

Looking for a distraction, Charles glances down out as his phone, clearing out his junk mail and checking his text messages.

          **Wanda:** Can I eat dinner at Ororo’s house tonight?

          We want to perfect our presentation for tomorrow

 **Charles** : I’m fine with it if Papa is

Have fun sweetie, ily

[several smiley emojis]

 **Wanda:** Love you too

          But PLS stop using so many emojis

          For all our sakes

 **Charles:** NEVER

          [devil face emoji]

Charles walks around the kitchen, tidying up a bit and texting Erik items to pick up at the grocery store. After cleaning up, he heads upstairs to check on Pietro.

 _Erik mentioned Pietro had an essay due tomorrow, I’ll check to see if he wants any help with it,_ Charles thought. He stopped in front of his son’s room, but didn’t hear any laptop keys typing. He did, however hear a grunt of frustration. _He must still be in the pre-writing stage._ Charles opened his mind up so he could hear his sons thought projections, expecting to find impressions of bayonets and Founding Fathers.

What he saw instead was a complete shock. An image played through his mind of a busty, nude, green skinned girl draped over the knee of a large cocked man. The man was smacking her ass repeatedly while pouring out a litany of dirty talk. The woman moaned theatrically in between the blows.

Despite the warning bells going off in his mind Charles stood frozen, both physically and mentally, completely unable to stop himself from watching the disaster unfolding before his mind’s eye.

The man removed the girl from his lap, placing her on hands and knees on the couch they had been on. As he stood up, you could see a long, sleek tail coming out of his lower back. He lined up his cock and thrusted roughly into her.

“Mmmm, give it to me, Daddy”, the girl whimpered.

“Ask nicer little whore,” he commanded.

“Please Daddy, please!” she shrieked in reply as he drilled into her.

Though he was horrified by what he was witnessing, Charles was still unable to tear himself apart from the images streaming through his sons consciousness.

 _Leave leave leave leave!_ Charles’ mind screamed to the rest of his body, but his limbs didn’t seem to get the message as he was still rooted to the spot in disgust.

The impression cut to a different scene, where the previous couple were joined by another male mutant, who was helping the other in spit roasting the green skinned girl. As they roughly thrust into her, they kept a constant stream of sexist slurs directed at her.

“What a good bitch, yeah,” said the mutant with a prehensile tail.

“Take it harder, you little slut,” added the one with a forked tongue.

This goes on for another forty seconds or so before the scene changes again. Another woman has appeared, even curvier than the first, but with a pair of delicate wings sprouting from her back instead of green skin. She and the first girl begin to put a show for the men, making out and rubbing their hands all over each other, sending hyper exaggerated moans and glances their male partners, who are fisting their dicks in the corner of the screen.

 _I’ve never seen a fully naked woman outside of a movie screen and I swear to god if I see any more of this I’m going to fucking puke,_ Charles thought offhandedly. _This must be what straight people feel like when they think of gay sex._

At the suggestion of one of the men, the girls placed themselves sideways on the bed, facing each other so they can continue to make out while the men penetrate them from behind. The mutant with the tail lets it stroke his partners back, surprisingly gentle considering the roughness of his pistoning hips.

Finally gathering his wits about him, Charles exited Pietro’s thoughts.  He tripped over his own feet and ran into the wall trying to run away. _Please let the volume on his headphones be loud enough that he didn’t hear that._

Feeling sick to his stomach, Charles ran to the master bathroom, trying to hold back his feeling of nausea.

 _Oh my god_. _I just essentially walked in on my child watching porn._ Charles scrubbed his hands vigorously in the sink, wishing he could do the same to his mind. _What the fuck do I do? Do I tell him about it?? Or will I be forced to live forever with this horrible memory in my mind?_

Downstairs the front door opened, with Erik shouting a greeting as he entered. Charles raced down the steps to seek the solace and counsel of his husband. He found him and their daughter setting grocery bags on the table. He gave Lorna a quick peck on the forehead and then sent Erik a mental SOS message. Erik looked at his in confusion at his urgency, but nodded.

“Lorna, sweetie, would you mind heading upstairs for a minute? Your dad and I need to talk about some, ah, sensitive topics for a minute.” Erik asks.

“Yeah, of course. I was about to start my homework anyway. I just need to borrow a calculator from Speedy first.” Lorna replies.

Charles tried not to choke, _Lorna_ cannot _go into his room right now._  “Uh, could you start your math later? Or check in your sister’s room? Your brother has… a lot on his hands at the moment and wouldn’t want to be bothered.” Charles cringes at the double meaning of his words.

 “’Kay, whatever. You’re being super weird, is everything ok dad?” Lorna asks, nose wrinkled up in confusion. Charles nods but she rolls her eyes, clearly not convinced.

As soon as the door to Lorna’s room clicks closed, Charles buries his head into Erik’s chest, whimpering. Erik is wraps his arms around his husband, half way between amused and concerned.

“What is it darling? I can’t understand you when your mind is all jumbled and your face is pressed into my sweater,” he teases gently.

Charles resignedly pries his head away from Erik’s chest. “Teenage boys are just so _gross_ ,” he babbles. “Heterosexuality, _super_ gross. And boobs? I can’t handle them. I’m too gay for this shit.”

“Has Pietro been talking about his crushes again? Maybe he’s a little too detailed in his descriptions, but I still think you’re overreacting a bit.”

“No, Erik, I’m pretty sure that this is a perfectly normal way to react to accidental telepathic voyeurism.”

“…Can you run that sentence by me again?”

“Accidental. Telepathic. Voyeurism. I brushed up against his mind while he was watching porn and got a front row seat to teenage masturbation land.”

“He was watching porn?” Erik asks in shock. Charles nods in affirmation. “On my _work_ laptop?” Erik’s voice went up high at the end in anger.

Charles groaned and bashed his forehead into Erik’s sternum. “Darling, I think you’re missing the point here! I don’t really give a fuck about your laptop at the moment, we can always wipe its memory. But you know whose we can’t? Mine! I’ll need THERAPY after this. I saw vividly saw multiple naked women in my sons mind. I’ll never be able to look him in the face again.”

“We obviously need to have a serious discussion with him. Did he notice your intrusion?”

“I don’t think so, you know how he tends to project things a little too strongly. What the hell are we even supposed to say to him? ‘Hey kiddo, I just accidentally read your thoughts while you were jacking off, but no biggie.’?”

“I don’t know,” Erik admitted, digging his hands through his hair in distress. “But we need to make sure it doesn’t happen again, especially with the girls in the house.”

The two stopped before their son’s door. “What if he hasn’t, you know, finished?” Charles asked.

“It’s been a few minutes, he’s done,” Erik scoffed. “Just suck it up and knock on his door.”

 _Poor choice of words,_ Charles thought with a shudder as he knocked.

Pietro answered the door a few seconds later, pulling off a large pair of headphones. “Yeah?”

Pushing down his discomfort, Charles approached his son. “Hey kiddo, can we talk to you?”

“Sure,” he says, gesturing for them to enter his room. Pietro perches on the bed, with the laptop next to him. Charles glanced at the screen, which was now thankfully on an academic website.

          “So, what’s up Daddy-o’s?” asked Pietro. Erik and Charles both cringe at the nickname, the former out of annoyance and the latter because he would never be able to hear that word ‘daddy’ the same way again. They glance at each other, unsure of how to broach the subject.

          “Uh, so how’s the essay going?” Erik decides on.

          “Fine?” Pietro says, clearly made uncomfortable by his fathers’ presence. “Both of you guys wouldn’t come in here acting all serious for that though. I’m in trouble, aren’t I? Did the school call? I swear whatever it is, I didn’t mean to do it. Unless they found that caricature I made of Mr. Stryker, in which case I _did_ do it, it was fucking awesome, and I refuse to apologize for art.”

          “We’ll have to discuss that at a later time, but at the moment we have a very different matter to discuss. Charles?”

          _Sure, throw_ me _under the bus, why don’t you?_  Charles mentally shoots to his husband. Erik sends a mental shrug back, then suggests for Charles to get to the point.

“I bumped into your mind while you were watching porn earlier.” He blurts out.

Pietro’s face blanches, then turns fire truck red. “You what?”

“I came upstairs to see how your ‘essay’ was coming along, and I reached out to your mind to see if you wanted help but then I saw everything you were seeing because you were projecting and was frozen to the spot, and it was really gross and I feel like we need to talk about it so we can set up better boundaries so this never happens again, especially with your sisters in the house,” Charles blurts out, relieved to get it off of his chest.

Pietro stands from his bed and begins pacing his room, a flurry of emotions racing across his face. “I honestly don’t know what to say about this. First of all, ew, I guess. Second of all, I feel super violated.”

“Imagine how I feel!” says Charles, half laughing. “We are revoking your allowance money until you move out to pay for my therapy sessions.”

“I can’t tell if your joking or not, but that actually seems like a fair punishment. I’m really sorry this happened.”

          Though he had come in the room determined to parent with a firm hand, Charles couldn’t help but feel his heart soften at the look of genuine contrition on Pietro’s face.

“I accept your apology. Just don’t let it happen again. Keep your “Pietro time” to the shower because we _really_ don’t want either of your sisters to be subjected to anything like this. And for future reference, just make sure to delete your browser history and male sure you have a firewall up so your computer doesn’t get infected with anything.”

“Future reference?” Erik butts in. “Pietro won’t be watching those disgusting, fetishizing adult videos ever again.”

 _Adult videos?_ Charles thinks. _What decade does he think we’re in?_

“Come on, dads, like you guys never watched porn when you were younger.”

“No! Of course not” and “Of course I did,” Erik and Charles say simultaneously.

“Really, Charles?” Erik grumbles.

“What? I did. Though back in the day, we didn’t have that fancy pornhub stuff you kids have nowadays, I had to walk to the video store and rent them. They came in unmarked cases and I used to write out academic sounding titles to make sure Raven or my mom never got into them.”

“Charles,” Erik admonishes, louder this time.

“But by the time I was in my twenties, internet porn was in full blast. Man, up until I started dating your father redtube and I were basically best friends.”

“CHARLES!”

“What?”

Erik shoots his husband a dirty look “Not helping, like, at all. I’m trying to teach our son about respecting women here.”

“And _I’m_ just fulfilling our policy of being completely honesty with the children. Besides, none of the porn I ever watched was disrespectful to _women_.”

“That’s so _not_ the point here. The point is that pornography is chock full of misogynistic and anti-mutant messages. Even if you’re watching gay porn, you could still be looking at videos that hypersexualize and objectify mutant features. I actually wrote a paper on it in college, I think we should make Pietro read it as part of his punishment.”

“I’ll read it. I’ll even write a ten-page response, APA citations and everything, if you want me to. Anything to have this conversation be over. Cuz it’s like, super awkward,” Pietro said, face flushing even redder than before. “I get it, porn is super bad and mutant porn worse. Keep masturbation to shower time. Just ground me for however long and let me shower off the grossness of all this.”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you’d been practicing your mental walls like we keep asking you to do,” Charles chided. “If people in college dorms have enough respect and foresight to put a sock on the door while having sex, you can do the same, but mentally. I’d be more than happy to help coach you again.”

“That’d be great, dad. I have been slacking off on my mental shield lately. Wanda keeps giving me really dirty looks because I project weird stuff to her on accident.”

“That poor girl,” Erik says under his breath.

Charles nudges him playfully, makes to leave. “Well I think we’re done here. I’m sure we’ll all laugh about this little incident soon enough.”

“Yeah right,” Erik and Pietro both scoff.

“Well at least we know where all the tissues have disappeared to. Allergy season, my ass.” Charles joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Too soon, dad. _Way_ too soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from a song in the Tony Award winning Broadway musical Spring Awakening  
> The nickname Erik calls Pietro at the beginning, Mein Schneckchen, is German for my snail. I HAD to use it because of the sweet irony.  
> Currently unbeta'd, all grammatical and continuity errors are my own.  
> I have started writing the next chapter, but I make no guarantees of when it'll be posted  
> Comments and critiques always appreciated!


	3. Baby Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik is less than ecstatic to learn that he is the father to a baby of an already married woman. He wants nothing to do with the child, but that all changes as soon as he holds his sweet Lorna in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set 3 years BC, when the twins are 4 and Erik is 25-ish

Erik did not do well in hospitals, he never had. He was that kid that needed four different nurses to hold him down to administer vaccinations. He didn’t trust doctors, preferring instead to being taken care of by his mother’s experienced hands. The night that Anya was born affirmed his feelings.

Erik knew that it wasn’t the doctor’s fault that he lost his wife and child, they had done all they could to save them. That didn’t make single parenthood any easier. After a period of heavy grieving in which his mother was the primary caretaker of the twins, Erik knew that he had to get his act together for the twin’s sake. He made the difficult decision to move from Germany to the US, taking a job as a consulting metallurgical engineer. The job allowed him to spend afternoons at home with his children, teaching them about American customs and the English language.

Erik marveled at how fast the four-year-olds absorbed the information he fed them, especially considering that English would be their third language after German and Romani. Erik was a polyglot himself, but where he sputtered and struggled, his children spoke fluidly and eloquently for their tender ages.

But still, the children had been different following the death of their mother, Wanda especially. They spent more time together and argued less; they seemed to comprehend that they needed to be on their best behavior while their father was grieving. While Pietro was clearly devastated by their loss, he was able to adjust fairly quickly with his Oma’s support. Wanda on the other hand became more serious and quiet, her large dark eyes showing wisdom and pain beyond her years. Erik would do anything to take away that look.

“Sir?,” a nurse tapped on Erik’s shoulder, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you Erik Lehnsherr, the husband of Ms. Abigail Dane?”

“Father of the child, though not husband,” Erik replied.

“I see, Mr. Lehnsherr. I’m Nancy, one of the nurses working with Ms. Dane. Her mother has requested me to tell you that labor is going well, she is fully dilated, and the child should be delivered within the hour.”

“Thank you for the update.”

“If you scrub up I can take you to the delivery room now.”

“No thank you, ma’am. I’d prefer to wait out here. But I’d like to be alerted once the child is born so I may see him or her.”

“As you wish. But if you change your mind, let one of the nurses at the front desk know.”

Erik gave a curt nod, dismissing the nurse. He tried to ignore the look of pity on her face as she walked away. He turned back to the termination of parental rights documents in his lap and began to sign them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Erik had always knew that he was going to be a family man. He was raised in a stable and loving household with two parents, and he intended to rear his children in the same way. He had married and started a family young and couldn’t be happier with his life. Fate, however, had many surprises in store for him. The love of his life was dead, and he now was having an out-of-wedlock child with a married woman that he hardly knew.

Abigail Dane was the twins’ pre-school teacher. Erik had gone to her house for student parent conferences and was charmed by her. After the conference, they had talked for hours. Abigail told Erik about her failing marriage, Erik told her about losing Magda. One thing led to another and Erik found himself in her bed. They both agreed that what had gone on between them was a huge mistake and would never happen again.

“Your life is like a goddamn soap opera” said Azazel, Erik’s new friend and neighbor, when he told him about the incident. They had chuckled about it and Erik had pushed the incident to the back of his mind after that…

Until he received a late night call from a sobbing Abigail a few months later.

“I’m pregnant,” she told him.

“What! How?”

“Well you see, when two people…” she mocked through her tears.

“Abigail, this is hardly the time for joking! You had told me that you were on the pill.”

“And I was, but I was also taking some antibiotics at the time which I didn’t know decreased the pills effectiveness, and well. Here we are now.”

Erik was quiet for a long time, just listening to Abigail breathe through the phone. “What will we do?” he finally asked.

“Ethan and I have worked a lot of things out, so we’d be more than happy to keep the child. I’ve always wanted to be a mother. There are still plenty of kinks to work out though. We’ll have to tell him that you are the father, because there is no way that he won’t figure out it’s not him.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay with the situation?”

“He’ll have to be.”

“And if he’s not?”

“There’s always adoption. I actually have a friend who is struggling with getting pregnant right now. If the worst comes to worst, I can talk to her.”

“What if the child is a mutant?”

“Then we’ll get some parenting books and deal with each day as it comes. About half the kids I’ve taught preschool for have been mutants, so I feel fairly prepared. But what about the twins?”

“Pietro and Wanda are never to find out that I am the father. Do you understand?”

“I don’t by any means agree with you, but yes, I understand.”

“I’ll Google termination of parental rights papers as soon as we get off the phone.”

“That’s a good idea. Goodnight Erik, and I’m really sorry.”

“I am too.”

Erik knew that his words were harsh, but his anger wasn’t directed towards her or the fetus. He knew that Abigail would love the child with all her heart and care for it to the best of her abilities. Her husband would raise the child as his own. After the first few months of turmoil, they could be happy.

He, on the other hand, would be forced to live with guilt for the rest of his life. Guilt for betraying the memory of his beloved wife. Guilt for hiding a sibling from his children forever. Guilt over the fact his child would be raised with no awareness of half of their identity, as a German Jew. Guilt for not being responsible enough to take responsibility for his own actions.

 Abigail gave Erik a tight smile which he did not return the next morning as he dropped the twins off at school. He hired a babysitter for that evening so he could discuss the matter over with the Danes.

Ethan reacted surprisingly well given the circumstances.

“We all make mistakes,” he said. “I won’t pretend to be an angel, I slept with other people as well when I thought that Abigail and I were going to split up. But I’m ready to be a father and I love this child every bit as much as if it had been mine.”

“I’m grateful to hear that.” Erik said. “After the twins finish this school year, I’ll do my best to stay out of your family’s life.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Erik nearly choked on his meal when Pietro announced that Ms. Dane was having a baby at dinner one night.

“Is that so?” he replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.

“It is! She says that it will be born in about late July.” Wanda replied. “She was very excited to tell the class.”

“She even had us give her ideas for names! I said that she should name it Lightning McQueen if it’s a boy.”

“I told her I liked the Esmerelda. Ororo said Princess Tiana was cooler.”

Erik forced himself to laugh at his children’s horrid naming ideas, but he couldn’t finish his meal because of the feeling of dread in his stomach.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Over the next few months, Erik tried to avoid the subject of the baby as much as possible. The only two people he told about his predicament were Azazel and his mother.

The former listened quietly while Erik told his story and offered him a beer afterwards, promising not to bring up the subject unless Erik wanted to speak about it. Erik appreciated Azazel’s quiet sort of friendship.

His mother, on the other hand, was anything but quiet on the matter.

“What is the latest news on the תינוק?” she would ask during their weekly Skype calls.

“Mutti,” he scolded, gesturing with his head to the twins playing in the background. Erik was glad that she choose to use the Hebrew word for baby so they wouldn’t understand. To be extra safe though, he sent them upstairs.

“But we wanna talk to Oma!” Wanda complained.

“And you will in just a moment, but for now we need to discuss some grown up things.” Erik explained. Wanda pouted, but allowed herself to be dragged out of the room by her brother. When Erik turned back to his laptop screen, his mother was looking at him in disappointment.

“ _Liebling_ , this child should not be something to be kept secret or be ashamed of. I for one would like to be in my grandchild’s life. I think the kids have a right to know.”

“And as their father, I think they shouldn’t.” replied Erik angrily.

Edie pursed her lips, but decided not to pursue the matter farther. “I booked a plane ticket to come visit you at the end of July.”

“Any reason that you picked that particular time to visit?” Erik asked, eyebrow raised.

“I haven’t seen you or the children since you moved to New York,” she replied. “Giving you the ability to be at the hospital for the birth of your child is just _Sahnehäubchen_.”

“I _have_ missed you, Mutti. And it would be good to have someone stay with the children in case I have to be in the hospital overnight.” Erik admitted.

“It’s settled then. Now call those beautiful _Kinder_ of yours back in so I can tell them.”

The twins were ecstatic to hear that their Oma was coming to visit in a few months. Erik couldn’t help but to share in their happiness if only for a moment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Erik looked up as he heard his name being called. It was Nancy, the nurse who had spoken to him earlier.

“Is everything alright, Nancy?” Erik asked, concerned.

“The baby was born about 15 minutes ago. Ms. Dane and her husband want you to go in and meet her.”

“She’s a girl?” Erik asked.

Nancy nods. “And healthy as one could hope for. But please, go in and see her for yourself.” Erik places the documents into a folder, slips it in the bag at his feet, and heads towards the delivery room.

 _A girl,_ he thought as he walked toward the delivery room. _I have another baby girl. No!_ he chastised himself. _The_ Dane’s _have a baby girl._

He swallowed the lump in his throat before opening up the door. Inside the delivery room he found the Dane’s cooing over a small lump in a blanket. They were so engrossed in cooing over their daughter that they hadn’t noticed that Erik had entered the room. One of the doctors led him over to an area where he could wash his hands and change into scrubs.

Abigail beamed up at Erik as he walked over to her bedside. “She’s so beautiful, I’ve never been happier,” she said. “I know it’s been a crazy past few months, but I want to say thank you for helping to bring her into our lives.”

“To show our gratitude, we want to have you help us name her,” Ethan said, clapping Erik on the back.

“What? No, I couldn’t possibly do that,” Erik protests.

“Don’t worry, if your ideas suck we’ll just use it as her middle name,” Ethan jokes.

“Nothing could be worse than Lightning McQueen,” Abigail adds. “We’ll give you some time to think it over while you hold her.”

Ethan shows Erik to a chair in the corner of the room. He sits and waits to be handed the baby. Ethan carries her over to him like she is the most delicate thing in the world. As Ethan hands her over Erik makes sure to cradle her head tenderly.

The first thing Erik notices when he pulls back the blanket from her face so that he can see her better that his daughter has a shock of deep green locks.

“The doctors say that it’s a sign that she inherited your mutant gene,” Ethan explains.

Erik nods, suddenly overcome with emotion. Sensing this, Ethan squeezes his shoulder then returns to his wife, leaving Erik alone in a world that consists of only him and his daughter.

“Hello little one,” he whispers. He laughs softly in wonder as his daughter grabs his finger. “I’ll never cease to be amazed at how strong your tiny hands are.”

All of the anxieties that have been plaguing Erik for the past months melt away as he holds his child, the precious gift that he helped bring into the world.

Erik imagines Wanda holding her sister, her smile the brightest that it had been since her mother passed. He imagined how when she got older, Pietro would carry her on his shoulders. How when she was old enough, she would discover her mutant powers. The years of soccer games and birthday parties and Hanukah celebrations, the play dates and report cards and eventually even leaving for college. All of which he was going to miss.

Right then and there Erik know what he has to do. _There is no way that I can let her go now that I have her in my life,_ he thinks. _I don’t know how I ever thought I could have it any other way._

He stands up and walks back over to the Dane’s.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Abigail asks, eyes shining.

“That she is,” Erik agrees.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Ethan asks.

“What do you guys think of Lorna for her name?” Erik asks. “I know it’s not the most popular name, but _Lorna Doone_ was one of my wife’s favorite novels.”

“Lorna? Lorna Dane. Lorna Elizabeth Dane. I actually think it has quite the ring to it.” Abigail said.

“That’s settled then.” Ethan said. “I know that you said that after the birth, you wanted to stay out of Lorna’s life, but Abigail and I would appreciate it immensely if you would consider being her godfather. Unofficially, of course, because you’re not Christian, but..”

“Actually, I was thinking that I’d like to be her _father_ father. You and Abigail deserve primary custody, and even full custody if that’s what you want, but I see now that I can’t keep myself away from her. It’s not fair to her or myself.”

The Dane’s smile at each other. “We were sort of hoping that you would say that,” Abigail says. ‘It might be a little messy legally, because we still want Ethan to be the legal father. I don’t know the details yet, like if you’ll have to pay child support or such, but I think with some time and a good lawyer we can swing some weekend and possibly holiday custody.”

“Thank you,” Erik says, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes. “I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

“It’ll take some getting used to, Lorna having two families, but I think that the twins will adore her. And it reduces the amount of diapers I have to change, which is a _huge_ blessing.”

“I hate to interrupt, but would you guys like a family picture?” asks Nancy.

“Of course,” Ethan says, handing over his cell phone. “Take one of just the three of us first, and then another with Erik in it, please.”

Nancy smiled at them. “I don’t quite understand the family dynamic here, but I’ve never seen three happier people in a room together. Congratulations to you all.”

When it was his turn to hold Lorna for the picture, Erik beamed as widely as he could. He’d been told many times before that he looked rather shark-ish when he smiled with all his teeth, but he couldn’t care less at the moment. He had a new daughter that he loved to death and that was all that mattered.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“I’ll leave you guys alone for now,” Erik said, heading towards the door. “I have to get back to the twins, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. _Anything._ I’m more than willing to lose a couple of nights sleep to spend time with our Lorna.”

“I’m holding you to that promise,” said Abigail.

Erik returned to the waiting room and grabbed the bag he had left there. He tried not think about the documents that resided within it.

_As soon as I get home, I am burning those cursed papers into oblivion._

Pulling out his cellphone, he dialed his mother’s number.

          “Mutti? You have another beautiful granddaughter. Lorna Elizabeth Dane. She has wonderful bright green eyes and _hair,_ the doctors say that it’s a sign that she inherited my mutant gene. And I talked to the Dane’s, and we agreed to try to get me partial custody. I have another baby, mama. I’m a father all over again.”

          “Oh Erik, I’m so happy for you! What made you change your mind?”

“Long story, we’ll talk about it when I get home. I’m on my way to the parking garage right now. Don’t say anything to the kids, please. I want to be there myself. Partially because I don’t want to have you explain to them the whole ‘where do babies come from’ thing, but mostly because I need to step up and start atoning for how much of an ass I’ve been for the past couple months.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, _Liebling._ I always knew that you’d make the right choice in the end. And if you didn’t I would beat your sorry ass until you did.”

Erik couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of her four foot nine frame attacking his six foot one. Though considering her fierceness, he didn’t doubt that she could inflict some serious damage.

“I’ll see you when I get home, Mutti. _Ich liebe dich.”_

          “ _Ich liebe dich,_ Erik.”

          Erik knew that he had a long road ahead of him. He had about a million baby items to buy if he wanted Lorna to stay with him. And he’d have to look for a bigger apartment, or possibly a house if he wanted her to have her own space for when she spent time with him. Of course, the courts may not allow him as much custody as he’d like, or any at all. And then there was the messy business of explaining to the twins how their schoolteacher’s baby was actually their sister. But Erik knew it would all be worth it in the end if it meant that he would be there for his Lorna for the rest of his life.

“My Lorna,” he said, testing how the name tastes on his tongue. “I think I’ll keep you for a while.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sahnehäubchen literally means cream topping, but is the German version of the phrase "the icing on the cake".  
> The title is from a song in the Disney movie Dumbo.  
> The story of Lorna's conception and birth in this fic is about -12% canon, but that's what modern AUs are for, right?  
> Thanks for being so patient with me! I promise that I'll start updating my fics more frequently once I'm done with filling out college applications, but that probably won't be until December so bear with me until then.  
> Still unbeta'd, still suck at using consistent verb tenses. There's a reason I'm not becoming an English major, and that is 90% of the reason why ;-)  
> I have some ideas for future chapters, but I'm always willing to get some input from my readers. Drop by my tumblr (dystopiceyre) any time to give me prompts or just to say hi.  
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Changing My Major

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just submitted my last college application Tuesday morning :) This story is more of a cathartic self-pat on the back than anything else.  
> I still have two more weeks of the quarter left, than hopefully I can get a lot more writing done!  
> This chapter takes place 11 years AC, when the twins are 18 years old. Title comes from a song in the musical Fun Home.  
> As usual this fic is unbeta'd; all mistakes are my own.

Charles could feel the tendrils of energy coming from his daughter from a black away. He drove home quickly, unease filling his chest. Lorna and Pietro had called him at work saying that Wanda was having one of her breakdowns. Erik was out of town on business and they didn’t know how to help her. Charles left work immediately after receiving the call. Wanda’s powers were getting stronger by the day; there was no telling what damage she could do if she lost control.

“Daddy!” said Lorna as he walked through the front door. “Thank God you got here so quickly, Wanda’s gone completely ballistic.”

“Have any of you tried to talk to her?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” Pietro replied. “She seemed a pretty on edge while we were at school, talking to herself and really distracted, but she didn’t want to talk about it. As soon as we got home, she told us to leave her alone for a few hours, locked herself in her room with her powers and completely lost her shit.”

“She started wailing in her head so hard that we could sense it from down here. We tried ignoring it at first, but when she didn’t stop after a few minutes we got worried. Speedy and I tried knocking on her door, but I don’t think she could hear us. I heard her breaking things, it almost sounds like glass but I don’t know why or how she would have any of that in her room anymore.”

“It’s one of her coping methods,” Charles explained. “After the mirror incident she learned how to weave her energy into a form that mimics the properties of glass so that she can have the satisfaction of breaking something without any of the danger.”

“She’s going to be ok, right Dad?” Pietro asked. “I’ve seen her get bad, but never like this.”

“I’ll take care of her,” Charles assured him with a hand on his shoulder.

But something Lorna had said concerned him. Both she and Pietro were less sensitive to receiving telepathic communication, especially from their sister. Wanda wasn’t one to project her emotions, usually preferring to mask them under her mental shield. Because of her telepathy, Wanda felt things far deeper than most. She tended to lose her grip on her powers when the weight of other people’s emotional projections was too much. Her concentration wavered, causing the pent up feelings to pour out of her in waves. It was usually just enough energy for him or other telepaths to notice, she hadn’t unknowingly projected to Pietro since she first developed her powers.

“Do you guys have any idea what’s causing her to stress out this much?” Charles asked.

“Yeah,” said Pietro. “College apps close up this week. A whole bunch of people were freaking out at school today. Naturally, no one has bothered to submit any until the last possible moment. Three people left halfway through class in tears during third period alone. I don’t get what the big deal is though.”

 _Applications, of course!_ Charles thought, surprised by his own forgetfulness. _You work at an university, for fucks sake._

It was the twins’ senior year of high school. While Pietro was taking a lackadaisical approach towards graduation and college applications, Wanda had spent hours during the summer researching different universities and majors.

“I have all my grades and test scores in this file, all of my citizenship documentation here, my résumé and volunteer hours in this folder, and a list of possible essay topics right here,” said Wanda, pointing out each document as she spoke.

“You’re very prepared for filling out your applications,” Erik said. “Try and get some of that to rub off on your brother.”

“There’s just one problem: I just don’t know what to do with my life,” she confided. “You’re a metallurgical engineer, your job perfectly complements your mutation, and Dad’s job combines his passion for genetics with his love of peoples. You guys have found your calling. I don’t feel _called_ to do anything in particular.”

“You’re a very capable girl, _Mäuschen_ ,” Erik replied. “I know that you’ll excel at whatever it is you end up doing.”

“That doesn’t help me choose a major though,” Wanda muttered.

 “There’s always NYU,” Charles said when she told him of her struggles. “I’m obviously quite biased on that point, but it is an excellent school from an objective viewpoint as well.”

“That’s true,” Wanda said, clearly not feeling reassured.

“I’ll set you up with one of the career counselors at the school. They should be able to point you in the right direction.”

The counselor did little to help. “I could have just Googled ‘best careers for ISTJs’ myself,” Wanda complained. “She just kept saying ‘remember no matter what happens, everything will work itself out for the best in the end.’ I was looking for _real_ answers, not some haphazard pseudo-therapy lesson.”

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about, sis,” said Pietro.  
“Just pick some general field. It’s just your undergrad degree. You have plenty of time to change your major before graduation.”

“That’s so ESFP of you,” Wanda scoffed.

“I have no fucking clue what that means. Is it like ESP? Because you’re the one with that ability.”

“No, it’s your Myers-Briggs type. It’s one of the ways psychologists break people up by how you process and react to the world around you. There are 16 different types, I’m Introverted-Sensing-Thinking-Judging, you’re Extroverted-Sensing-Feeling-Perceiving.”

“So my type is like, super awesome and funny and popular, while yours makes you a control freak stick in the mud?”

“That’s a surprisingly accurate analysis. Perceiving people like you and Dad are more able to go with the flow, while Judging people like Papa and I like to have strict schedules. I _need_ to know what I want to do so I can apply for the best schools for that major. I don't even know if I’d get into half of the schools I’m looking at. Cornell only has a 14% acceptance rate and that’s one of the highest in the Ivy League. And not to mention even getting good scholarships...”

“You’re a fucking asexual Jewish-Romani polyglot mutant with a dead mother and gay dads, plus excellent grades and test scores,” Pietro said. “You couldn’t engineer a life story more likely to get scholarships if you tried.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Wanda giggled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Charles could see the red glow of energy projections surrounding the cracks Wanda’s door, forming a very effective barricade of the entrance to her room.

 _Darling, I need you to open the door,_ Charles thought towards Wanda. He could feel the swirling torrent of her mind even through his mental shield.

 _Go away._ _I don’t want you to see me like this,_ she sent back.

 _I want to see if I can help you,_ he replied. _Please,_ he added after a moment.

He sensed Wanda considering his proposal. She had inherited her father’s stubbornness and unwillingness to ask for help. Charles hoped that she would be able to set that aside for a moment so he could help her regain control of her powers.

To both his relief and surprise, she opened the door. She gestured with shaking hands for him to come in and then resealed the entrance. Charles could feel the tingle of residual energy from her using her powers to manipulate matter in the air. She sat on her bed, wiping the tears off her makeup-streaked face with the back of her hand. Charles allowed her a moment to collect herself before she spoke.

“As you can see, I’m handling my stress very well,” she said.

“First of all, it’s not just _your_ stress that you’re feeling. It’s understandable that you would feel overwhelmed with sensing and trying to process the panic of your entire senior class. Secondly, you did everything right. Once you felt yourself losing control, you isolated yourself and practiced the things Papa and I have been working on with you.”

“But I could have hurt someone! I could’ve blown up the whole fucking house!” Wanda shouted. “Me losing control isn’t an option, my energy projections are too dangerous. I’m a fucking time bomb that could go off any minute and incinerate all of you.”

“And if _I_ lost control I could make everyone within a five-block radius completely lose their grip on reality. If your dad lost control, he could make every metal object in this house kill you. Uncle Hank could permanently turn into a giant, blue, furry creature. That’s just part of being a mutant. Of being human really, baseline humans have proved themselves to be just as dangerous or even more so than mutants. It really sucks, but you can’t let fear of failure rule your life.”

"I know,” she said, voice wavering and tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s just so hard sometimes.”

Wanda dissolved into sobs again. Charles reached over to comfort her, but she flinched.

 _Don’t touch me, I don’t want to hurt you,_ she thought towards him.

 _I trust you, my darling. You won’t hurt me,_ he replied.

Charles sat on the bed, allowing Wanda the choice to reach for his touch or not. Out of all the kids, Wanda was the least likely to ask for physical affection, so it surprised him when she scooted closer to him and took his hand in hers.

“I can feel every stomach flutter, every gasping breath, every clench of their fists,” she whispered. “I tried to keep up my shield, but it was all too much. The screams of every senior at our school is going through my mind. I’ve been home for hours, but they won’t go away. I’m too weak to place the shield back around my mind. Their fear echoes through me constantly. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever experienced that before,” Charles said. “I get effected by people’s emotional projections as well, but the connection usually breaks when I leave their immediate proximity. May I?” he asked, holding two fingers out his free hand towards Wanda’s forehead.

Wanda nodded, allowing Charles to probe her mind with his. Once inside, Charles flinched from the intensity of emotion. His vision ran red; his heart began to beat faster. Inside her mind, Charles could feel the individual agonies of a hundred students. Some of them were fainter and farther away, but he recognized the mind of her best friend, Ororo, front and center. He could hear the typing of hundreds of laptop keys, frantically trying to finish application essays. He could feel the panic of students thinking about their GPAs and test scores, the despair of those who knew they couldn’t afford their dream school.         The din of the thoughts was all too much, distinct and separate, yet connected and fluid, all at once.

“Daddy, Dad?” Wanda asked, shaking him. “Are you ok?”

Charles looked up to find himself laying on the floor of Wanda’s room, clutching his head in pain.

“What happened?” he asked, sitting up.

“I think you went too deep when you were probing my mind. You searched around for a few minutes, then started to seize up. Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, but how about you?”

“I’m feeling better actually. I still have a pretty shaky grip, but once you pulled out, I was able to get my shield back up to block the worst of the projections. I think it helped to share the feelings with someone else.”

“Do you always sense thoughts like that?” Charles asked. “I don’t know how you handle the cacophony.”

“It wasn’t always like this,” said Wanda. “When I first got my telepathy, I could only sense the emotions of those closest to me, but I don’t mean proximity wise. I could read Pietro's thoughts the clearest because we understood each other the best. As my powers grew though, I began to be able to hear the thoughts of everyone. At first, I had to reach out to understand them, but soon I had to completely block out all thoughts when I was in group situations. Even then I’m still connected to the minds of my loved ones, so I can still faintly sense what you or Papa or Lorna is feeling.”

“Fascinating,” Charles said. Wanda gave him a confused look. “The fact that you can hear the individual thoughts of people in a group without explicitly reaching for them,” he explained. “Your particular telepathic abilities are quite different than mine, though we both seem to communicate the best with the people we’re closest to.”

“You don’t hear things like that?” Wanda asked, incredulous. Charles shook his head. “I thought you were just so much better at handling things than I am,” she said.

“My sweet girl, you are so much stronger than you’ll ever know,” he said, pride and affection exuding from him.

“You’re not going to make me do any weird tests to find out more about how my telepathy works, are you?” Wanda asked.

“Nah, it’s unethical and biased to use one’s own daughter as a test subject,” Charles said. “And besides, your dad would kick my ass.”

Wanda let out a small laugh.

“But I definitely need to work with you to see how to best protect yourself from a situation like this happening again,” he said. “You don’t need to carry the weight of your mutation by yourself. You're not alone.”

“I know that now,” said Wanda.

“Is there anything I can do to help you right now? Want some tea or something?” Charles asked.

“Tea sounds lovely right now,” she replied.

“I’ll be right back up with a cup,” said Charles.

While he was brewing the tea, Charles talked to Pietro and Lorna, assuring them that their sister was going to be ok. He also sent a few texts to Erik, explaining the situation and saying that he’d call him in an hour with an update.

When he came back into Wanda’s room with the tea, she was lying on her bed, classical music playing softly in the background.

“Thanks,” she said as he handed her the mug.

“Feeling any better?” he asked.

She nodded. “While I was hearing everybody else’s thoughts, I got to hear all of the different majors they were thinking about. I think I’m going to go for a degree in communications. I don’t know which career path I’ll go down yet, but who better to help people communicate than a telepath?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” said Charles. “You can send out your applications later, but for now I think you’ve earned some rest.”

Wanda nodded. “Can you use your powers to help me go to sleep?” she asked.

“Of course, darling.” Charles placed blankets over Wanda’s body, tucking her in like he used to when she was a little girl.

“I love you,” Charles said, planting a kiss on her forehead.

Wanda let out a soft smile, already half-asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry my descriptions of Wanda's powers were so vague, a lot of sources suck at describing them and there's so many different versions of her character that I wasn't sure which one to use. For the sake of this fic series, I'll stick with how her powers are used in the Age of Ultron film: with telepathy, telekinesis, and "neuro-electric interface psionics" (description courtesy of http://marvelcinematicuniverse.wikia.com/wiki/Scarlet_Witch#Powers_and_Abilities). It's my headcanon that Charles' telepathy works more abstractly, when he reads a crowd he gets their general feelings, and only hears individual thoughts if he specifically seeks them out. Wanda on the other hand hears all individual thoughts simultaneously unless she has her mental shield up. This explains why Charles, despite being a very gifted telepath, was so overwhelmed when he peaked into Wanda's mind. If you have a specific question about how either of their powers work, feel free to message me on tumblr or leave a comment here.  
> If anyone is wondering, I think Erik's Myers-Briggs type is INTJ (only one letter away from my INTP) and Charles is ENFP. But that's for this fic series, comic Charles would probably be something very different. I haven't fleshed out Lorna's character enough to know about her yet.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the stage name of a singer/songwriter.  
> The scenario of the speeding at 90mph to get medical attention in the middle of the night is inspired by my own "almost appendicitis" incident, though mine was UTI related, not caused by menstruation. And had a lot fewer hot, mutant dads involved.  
> Timeline info: All subsequent chapters will be labelled a certain amount of years either BC (before Charles) or AC (after Charles). Charles and Erik meet when twins are 7, Lorna is 3, Erik is 28 and Charles is 26.  
> Currently unbeta'd, all mistakes (cough, switching between tenses) are my own.  
> Comments and critiques always welcome!


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